


Paint Me With Words

by QuothTheRaven_Nevermore



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:38:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore/pseuds/QuothTheRaven_Nevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr post about two vampire friends that get drunk and try to describe each other because they can't see their reflections in a mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint Me With Words

**Author's Note:**

> This post http://iusedtobeabaker.tumblr.com/post/130368097937/frankmorys-two-vampire-friends-lying-on-the

Harry and Louis stumble into their living room. Harry has is arm wrapped loosely around Louis and Louis is leaning on Harry, his head thrown back in a loud laugh. His hand comes up to cover is mouth, but some giggles still escape. Harry is giggling too, leading them toward the couch. He sits Louis down on it and then walks to their kitchen and grabs beers out of the fridge. He knows that they're probably already drunk enough, but it's Saturday night and if Harry doesn't wake up with a hangover that makes him regret this, then he didn't do it right. He takes them to Louis, has somehow moved from the sofa to the floor. He's lying on his back, his arm stretched into the air. He's staring at his hand like it's something magical. "What are you doing, Lou?" he asks as he sits next to him, opening his beer and taking a swig.   
Louis sighs and brings his hand down. He looks over at the mirror that they still haven't found a place for, Louis bought on impulse because "it was on sale Harry! Only $25.99 instead of $34.99! I had to take it! Look how nice it is!" and sighs deeply. It's leaning against the wall, reflecting their living room. It's a large square mirror and it should have their reflections in it too, along with everything else, but all it shows is their dark leather couch, their shoes that they left by the door and their floor. "Why can't I see myself, Harry?" Louis asks, pouting.  
"You know why," Harry asks, taking another drink. "We're vampires. We can't see our reflections, kind of comes with the whole immortality thing."  
"Yeah," Louis sighs, sounding tired, "But sometimes I wish we could, like normal people. I'm tired of not knowing what I look like. I can't even remember the last time I saw myself."  
He sits up and takes a beer out of the case, opening the bottle and tossing the cap somewhere behind him. As he's taking a drink, his eyes widen, "Harry!" he slaps Harry's arm with all the precision and grace of a drunk, hitting him right in the bend of his elbow, making Harry spill beer all over his lap. "Describe me!"  
"What?" Harry asks, wiping the beer that spilt on his mouth off with the back of his hand.  
"Describe me!" Louis asks again, his eyes alight and shining. "Tell me what I look like! And I'll tell you!" He finishes his beer and immediately grabs another one.   
"Okay," Harry says. He stares at Louis while trying to find the words to describe him. His mind is fuzzy, but he says, "You have light brown hair and," he squints, "blue eyes and...lips."  
Louis laughs, "I know I've got lips, everyone's got lips you dork."  
"Yeah," Harry says, slightly offended, "But they're nice lips, very...pink."  
Louis giggles, a sign that he's riding the line between sobriety and drunken shenanigans.   
"You got a cute nose too," Harry says, reaching over and bopping his nose with his index finger.  
Louis laughs again, covering his mouth with his hand. "I sound horrible," he giggles. He sets his empty bottle next to all the other bottles and lies down on the carpet, looking up at their ceiling.  
"You're eyes get smaller when you laugh," Harry notes, "They like crinkle at the corners and you're mouth opens into a big smile. It's cute."  
"That doesn't sound attractive at all," Louis says, "or cute. I sound hideous."  
Harry laughs and shakes his head. "No, you're pretty. Like...a flower."

This only causes a drunken Louis to laugh more where he's laying, his small body shaking with the force of his laughter. "I'm a flower?!" he manages to say breathlessly, "What a disappointment! What would me mum say if she knew her only son was a flower?!"  
Harry nearly chokes on his drink when he hears Louis say this. He clutches his stomach as he laughs, tears going down his face. Louis joins in, laughing until his stomach hurts. In all their drunkenness, they find this to be the funniest thing they've heard in their immortal entire lives.   
"You're turn," Harry says breathlessly, lying next to Louis once their laughter has died down.  
Louis turns his head to look at him sideways. He studies his face for a second before saying anything. "You've got brown hair that's curly. Like really curly. Like, have you ever seen those curly fries they give you at restaurants, the one's that are all wooo-whoop-de-whoop" he says, making a swirling motion with his finger. Harry giggles and nods, "Well it looks like that. And you've got g-" Louis hiccups, "green eyes and pretty pink lips." He reaches out and touches Harry's lips as if to tell him where they're at. He misses and touches the corner of them instead. He smiles as he realizes that he missed and laughs. "And you're eyes are like this," he brings his hands up to his face, his hands curled into circles. He puts them over his own eyes, and looks through them, like he's mimicking binoculars. Harry laughs, not knowing if he should be offended that Louis is telling him that he has binocular eyes. "You've also got this hair," Louis says, "that's like whoa." He makes a motion that reminds Harry of a lion's mane.  
"You already talked about my hair," Harry tells him.   
"Yeah, I know," Louis nods, reaching out and curling a strand around his finger, "but it's nice."  
Harry smiles and hums contentedly as Louis plays with his hair. "You've got nice hands," Louis tells him as he keeps touching Harry's hair. "And there's a tattoo on 'em."  
"I can see those," Harry tells him, chuckling.  
"Oh yeah," Louis says laughing, "I forgot." 

It's silent for a minute before Louis says, "You have white teeth."  
"Thank God," Harry answers, letting out a breath that sounds like he'd been holding it for a while, waiting to hear just this. "I'd hate to be the one vampire in history with gingivitis."  
Louis laughs, his hand slipping from Harry's hair to his own stomach, clutching it as he laughs. He leaves his hands on top of his stomach, once he's done laughing, the picture of comfort.  
"You've also got dimples," He says, reaching out to poke Harry in the cheek. "You can see them when you smile. This causes Harry to smile, showing the dimples Louis just told him about.   
Harry thinks of something and starts laughing. His laughter, his shoulders shaking with his silent laughter. Louis notices and asks, "What?"  
"You're small," Harry tells him, "like an elf. Just a tiny elf."  
"I am not!" Louis protests. "I am perfectly average height!"  
"For elves maybe," Harry laughs, never being able to get enough of his elf own jokes.  
"I am not! I am five nine!" Louis squeaks, his voice going incredibly high with indignation.  
Harry only laughs more, "I'm sure you are, Lou."  
"I am!"  
"Of course you are," Harry says, reaching out to pet his hair like you would a dog to make him feel better. Louis glares at him, but it doesn't last long before he's laughing. Harry's grateful that Louis's not an angry drunk. "I sound hideous."  
Louis shakes his head, putting his hand over Harry's mouth, "Shhh, no. You're beautiful. Like a model. My pretty model, Harry."  
Harry blushes and looks at Louis. He's staring up at the ceiling, no longer looking at Harry to describe him. "And you've got this cute little mole on your cheek, not a big one like the people in books with ugly names," Louis assures him, tapping his face, "You're not a Hilga. It's a cute one. It's...endearing."  
Harry chuckles, and Louis continues. He sounds less drunk now. That's the one thing that Harry both likes and doesn't like like about being a vampire. To stay drunk, you need to drink constantly and heavily. Shot after shot after shot after beer after beer. He's sure that by now, because of how long they were drunk, they must have drank enough alcohol to kill three grown men and two less grown men. "You're got pretty eyes," Louis tells him, still looking at the ceiling, hands still, his mouth being the only thing moving, "They're beautiful. Like bright green emeralds, something better even. And they sparkle when you're happy or excited, but they also look...darker when you're sad, like the sky."  
"The sky?" Harry asks.  
"Yeah," Louis says, "They're really bright and shining when you're happy, like the sky on a clear day. But then when you get sad, it's like it's raining because they're darker and look more grey than normal. Like the sky when it's going to rain."  
Harry nods, appreciating the comparison.

Louis is staring to sound tired now, but he continues talking. He tells Harry about how he looks when he's happy and how sad and huggable he looks when he's sad. He tells him about how his dimples show when he's smiling, but also when he's laughing or trying not to laugh. He tells him about how cute he looks when he frowns. And how absolutely adorable he looks when he furrows his eyebrows and pouts. Louis tells him all about how he can always tell when he's lying because of the expression on his face, causing Harry to make an "oh no" face. Louis laughs and takes Harry's hand. He presses it to his lips and smiles. "You're beautiful, even if my crappy explanations can't convey that," Louis tells him, making a small smile appear on Harry's face. "There's nothing like as beautiful as you Harry, I just wish that I had the words to convince you of it. A thousand years on earth and there still isn't words to describe you. You're the most wonderful and gorgeous thing in the world to me."  
Harry smiles and scoots over until he's close enough to kiss Louis's cheek. He does and Louis smiles a adorable, in-love smile that Harry makes sure to describe to him. They're lying side by side, just staring up at the ceiling as the last of the alcohol wears off and they go back to their normal vampire selves. Louis's head turns to look at the mirror, where he still can't see a thing. He studies it so intensely that Harry starts to think that maybe he can see something besides their sofa in it. After what seems like an eternity, Louis finally speaks again. "You're perfect Harry," Louis says, looking directly as Harry when he says this, "even if the mirror can't prove it to you."  
Harry smiles and he thinks that Louis's gone to sleep and that he's going to have to carry him down stairs to sleep, but then he speaks again. "And you've got this hair-"  
"Shut up!" Harry tells him, their laughs filling the otherwise solemn night air with amusement. They laugh, their bodies shaking with their own amusement. And they don't notice that the only thing mirror reflects is nothing but a pair of red shoes and brown boots by their front door.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried.


End file.
